


Immortal

by Dimity Blue (Arnie)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Supernatural, Gen, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-19 00:09:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arnie/pseuds/Dimity%20Blue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he arrived, it was already too late.  John Watson's body was still, his heart - what was left of it - silent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Immortal

Mycroft was at home, enjoying the peace after a long day spent making sure the right candidate won the election. Not that it had been that difficult, but there was always a risk of things going wrong if you took your eye off them for too long. Fortunately for all, including the loser, the right candidate had won and Mycroft would not be required to take steps to remedy the situation. He raised his glass of scotch, then paused. After a moment, he sighed. "Oh, Sherlock."

When he arrived, it was already too late. John Watson's body was still, his heart - what was left of it - silent. Naturally, Sherlock was unable to leave it at that and he was kneeling by John's side, his hands working feverishly to repair the damage.

"Sherlock." After a few seconds when it was obvious Sherlock would not be replying, Mycroft added, "He knew the risks."

Mycroft also knew the risks. Fast though Sherlock was, the damage was extensive, and Sherlock would not be able to revive John without the mortal - such fragile creatures as they were - suffering irreversible damage. Mycroft tapped the tip of his umbrella on the ground, considering his options, then shook his head. It was, he supposed, inevitable; he'd always felt responsible for Sherlock.

Giving in, he knelt beside his brother and joined in the healing. Between the two of them, it took far less time than it would have and the torn flesh was soon made whole. Mycroft glanced at his watch. Yes, that was quite satisfactory.

"A concussion, I think," Mycroft murmured.

Sherlock glared at him as the glow began to fade from his eyes, leaving them their usual pale blue green.

"Unless you prefer to persuade Doctor Watson that he swooned in the middle of a fight?" As Sherlock's glare deepened, Mycroft allowed his mouth to quirk into a small smile. "I thought not. A concussion it is then, and no need to create a false memory either. See how efficient that is?" John stirred, a small moan escaping from him, and Mycroft's smile widened. "I'll leave the rest to you. Do not forget to mend his shirt and jumper before the ambulance arrives."

As sirens sounded in the distance, Mycroft left, the alleyway fading away and his own hall appearing around him. Glancing down, he removed the dirt and blood from his suit and hands, then retired to the cloakroom to wash. Although his abilities were more than equal to the task of cleaning any matter from his hands, he had a fondness for soap and water. Perhaps, he reflected, drying his hands thoroughly, he'd been human too long.

He returned to his study and picked up his glass, then failed to be surprised when the summons appeared in front of him. Naturally, the Council had noticed and were requesting an explanation. Mycroft had expected nothing less.

Replacing his glass on the side table and wondering exactly when he'd get to finish his drink, Mycroft transported himself to the Council's chambers. He hoped they wouldn't make too much of a fuss; Sherlock hated to see his work undone, and any attempt to undo that particular bit of work would lead to eruptions, to say the least. Fortunately, the Council had a fondness for humans, which made it unlikely they'd demand John Watson be returned to his previous state. Added to which, by now, the paramedics would be checking John over and would therefore be extremely surprised to have their concussed but mostly-uninjured patient suddenly - and spontaneously - produce a fatal gunshot wound.

"Mycroft."

"Mummy!" Mycroft stopped, suddenly feeling rather ill at ease. He hadn't expected her to be here. As she fixed her gaze on his, he forced a smile and resisted the urge to loosen his tie.

"The Council contacted me. It is not for us to meddle with the lives of mortals. This John Watson died; that should have been an end to his life."

Mycroft managed a glance around. Apart from himself and his mother, the room was empty. He would much have preferred to deal with the Council rather than his own mother who, all too often, saw straight through his words to the meaning obscured behind them.

Well, perhaps the truth would serve, for once, anyway.

"Sherlock has become...attached."

"To a human?!"

"My surprise equals yours." Sherlock had never been able to develop a fondness for his charges - not even when Mycroft manipulated events. The debacle over Victor Trevor had proved that but, fortunately, Mount Etna had been due for an eruption anyway so the humans hadn't noticed a thing. "I do not believe he would be willing to lose Doctor Watson."

Mummy frowned. "You did not have to help him." As Mycroft opened his mouth to explain, she continued, "What am I saying - of course you did. You've always taken responsibility for Sherlock - too much so - and you have a weakness for mortals yourself." Again, he opened his mouth but she spoke over him. "Very well. What is done is done. Inform Sherlock that he needs to take better care; there is a limit to how much meddling can be endured."

"Yes, Mummy." Mycroft would tell him but he doubted Sherlock would listen. They'd better hope John Watson didn't get himself injured in front of a crowd or Mycroft would be spending the whole night cleaning that mess.

As he bent to kiss her cheek, she patted his arm. "Well done with the election, darling. The Council were most impressed. It looked completely natural!"

He smiled. "I do my best."

"I know you do." As he turned to leave, she added, "Tell Sherlock I expect to meet this John Watson. The Council are intrigued by him."

Mycroft kept his smile in place with an effort, but mentally ran through a list of volcanoes. There was bound to be one that was due to explode, he was sure.

The end


End file.
